


Maka and Soul’s list of terrible babysitters (and a few good ones)

by BlueTee



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Blair is my spirit animal, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fatherhood, Finding a good babysitter is hard, I don't like Maka's mom, Married Life, Motherhood, My First Work in This Fandom, SO MUCH FLUFF, SoMa is my OTP, SoMa kids are the cutest, like really hard, more characters later - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-03-08 19:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18901219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTee/pseuds/BlueTee
Summary: Fighting the Kishin was hard. Finding a nanny who will not raise your children from the top of Shibusen as in "The Lion King" is even harder.





	1. Blair or What the cat dragged out

**Author's Note:**

> *inhales deeply* _How I missed this fandom._
> 
> Thank you so much amazing [ infantblue ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/infantblue/pseuds/infantblue) for a) convincing me to post this and b) betaning the whole thing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter, we have Maka and Soul dealing with newborns, with the help of a perverted irresponsable magical cat.

Her kittens’ kittens were eight months old and Blair was convinced that they hadn’t take a single breath since the delivery.

And she was not talking about the newborns. She was talking about Soul and Maka.

Blair was so proud of her kittens. You see, the magical cat felt like she was part of their story. Sure, she wasn’t there in the fateful day they had met, but she was their first defeat (nyaaa, if she knew back then how much she would love those kittens, she wouldn’t had said she wanted to kill them…), she went to extra lessons with them, she even fought witches and what not for them. Blair was half-asleep in the kitchen table when they had their first (chaste) kiss at Maka’s door room at fifteen; she pretended she hadn’t saw them making out _as if their life depended on it_ on the couch when she arrived home after work when they were sixteen.

They were seventeen and she was the one who taught them how to put a condom on a banana, when she noticed that their making out/dry humping sessions were clearly becoming more desperate. Maka was mortified and Soul was exasperated beyond belief, but neither escaped her thoughtful lesson, or complained when she started to stock packs of condoms near every flat surface in the house.

She probably wasn’t at home in their first night, since they had become very acquittanced with her schedule, but she heard lots of the nights that followed – both were surprising vocal. She was having dinner with them when they talked about marriage for the first time – they were eighteen and Maka was determined to not be like her parents and marry at such young age. Soul just laughed and told her they were practically married already, but they would do as she pleased. Blair only had asked for the privilege of organize her bachelorette party.

And she did it, and it was epic.

In her cat form, Blair carried their wedding bands in the ceremony when they were twenty; she danced with Soul’s brother at the party to keep him and his annoying manners away from the groom; she took care of the house while they went to the honeymoon. She even gave them more privacy and space in their first years as a married couple and stopped to go around half naked in the house.

She was the first one to hear the news about the pregnancy.

She held Maka’s hair during her morning sickness when Soul wasn’t at home, she helped to make the health meals Stein had prescript, she even painted Soul’s-old-room-turned-nursery purple as a surprise for them. It was terrible and she made a mess, but Maka cried and said that she had loved it, Soul mumbled _“hormones”_ and they kept it like that. They asked her opinion about baby names, and she mixed a hell of a strong cocktail for Soul when they discovered they were expecting twins.

She was one of their first visits at the hospital, she helped Maka bathe (she had to do a mid-section) while Soul nursed the kittens, and helped Soul to change their diapers while Maka prepared baby bottles. She distracted Spirit when his ‘granpapa’ overwhelming acts put everyone in the house on the edge, and she played with the kittens while Maka cried on her husband’s shoulder because her mother hadn’t come to visit them yet.

As far as Blair was concerned, she was the real grandmother of those kittens, but she didn’t say a word. She didn’t have to.

As it was, Blair could tell her kittens were exhausted. Pffff… humans. If she decided to have her own kittens, they would probably come in a brood of six or eight. 

“That is literally the scariest thing I ever heard,” Soul mumbled when she voiced that thought. He poured two strong cups of coffee for Maka and him, and one of milk for their magical roommate cat. “Please promise me tha’ if you decide to have kittens, you will move in with Spirit.”

“Yeah, that would keep Papa busy too,” Maka agreed, also speaking in a low voice. They had just put the kids to bed. “We are not evicting you, Blair, but two is enough for now.” 

“Or for ever,” Soul murmured. Maka had the intention of hit him with something, but she was honestly just tired. “What should we make for dinner?”

“I don’t feel like cooking,” his wife answered, drinking her coffee lazily.

“Me neither. How about take out? Since you are no longer breast-feeding…”

“I could kill you right now for some junk food.”

“No need to kill me, woman, when I can simply order some pizza.”

“That would be…”

“Maka-chan, Soul-kun,” Blair interrupted, delicately putting her cup on the table. She had the sweetest smile and her voice was like music when she said: _“Get the fuck out of this house.”_

The couple exchanged some smacked looks, before turning back to the cat.

“Blair…”

“It’s _Friday night_ , you are _twenty-three_ and _in love_ ,” she explained, emphasizing the words. “Go on a date. Go get drunk with your friends. Go christen Shibusen’s room where you met for all Bu-tan care. _But get out._ ” Her long pink nail pocked Maka’s cheek. “You hunt monsters for living, so stop acting like you are tired and _old.”_

For his expression, Blair knew she had won Soul with the word “old”. As always, Maka was the one who needed more convincing.

“We _are_ tired, Blair,” she said, in her best teacher tone. “We just had two kids…”

“It’s been eight months already and you barely left this house, kitten.” If Soul wasn’t on board before, he definitively was now, after being hit by the epiphany that his wife was tired, yes, but _mentally_. Maka was not the kind of woman that could just be cooked up inside home for so long, didn’t matter how devoted of a mother she was. “You need time for yourself, too.”

“But the babies…”

“The kids are bathed, changed, feed and asleep, Maka,” Soul intervened, reaching for her hand across the table. He gave her fingers a reassuring grip. “I think Blair’s got a point. We could use a break.”

Maka bit her lower lip, thinking. She was thinking so hard that her head hurt – it felt like she hadn’t used her brain in a while. Wow. Maybe she really needed a change of air.

“I would feel bad if I left them,” she mumbled, her face colored in a fainted shade of pink. Soul’s thumb started some reassuring movements on her wrist. 

“You are not leaving them, Maka,” he said, in a gentle tone he rarely used. “You will be gone for a couple of hours. And your extended leaving is almost over, anyway. Or are you planning on retiring early?”

“ _No!_ I mean, I don’t…”

“You are not leaving them, kitten,” Blair repeated, pinching her cheeks now. “Bu-tan will be here with them all the time. Bu-tan have been helping you with Sound-tan and Aika-tan until now, right?”

“Right…” she mumbled, puffing her cheeks in a childish manner that made Soul grin and Blair had to resist the urge to hug her against her chest. Sometimes was so easy to forget that, in the end, Soul and Maka _were_ really young. “Promise me you won’t levitate them or use magic in any other way?”

“Bu-tan promises!” she said, lifting her right hand and everything. 

“Ok then…” Maka agreed, and Blair transformed back into a cat with an excited jump, while Soul circled the table to offer her his hand. He had his signature devilish grin in his mouth and Maka asked herself when was the last time she had saw it.

“Come on, then,” he said, and something in his red eyes made her press her tights firmly together. “We can start date night with a bath.”

‘Sharing’ was implicit and Maka let out something that was between an annoyed noise or a moan and, Blair, chuckling, went to the nursery to take a nap in the carpet between the two cribs.

* * *

He was wearing his best jeans and his new favorite leather jacket, and she was wearing a short black dress that was fluttering around her while they rode through the city. Without a certain destiny, Soul just drove them, always up, relishing in the feeling of the wind in his face, and his wife’s arms tidily embracing him. She hadn’t ridden with him since her bely became more evident, and the Death Scythe couldn’t believe how much he had missed the feeling of her tiny body pressed against his back, her face resting between his shoulder blades.

Soul loved his kids more than anything in the world, but he couldn’t deny that he missed being alone with Maka.

They didn’t exchange words while they drove, but their souls were firmly enlaced, resonating. Soul was playing their song, notes of love and trust and care and companionship. Maka hummed against his back, toneless, rhythmless and adorable, while her soul embraced his like a warm blanked, and she was mostly just glad for being his partner, his best friend, his lover, his wife.

Soul stopped at Shibusen’s front courtyard, because it was the highest point in the city, and they could see all Death City from there. The school abnormal candles were burning as ever, but all the windows were dark. It was Friday night, after all, and he didn’t need Maka’s Soul Perception to know that probably there was no one there.

In a maneuver that would make Black*Star proud, Soul turned around in the motorcycle without descending it, bringing Maka closer, almost sitting her on his lap. Keeping they balanced in the parked bike, he gently combed her long hair messed by the wind back to place. It was the longest Maka had ever wore, and he thought it suited her as much as her old pigtails.

“Sooo…” he said, in his smoothest voice, eyes fixed in her intense green ones. “Where should we go next?”

She smiled lovely, gentle fingers adjusting his bandana. 

“Well, I was thinking…” she murmured, caressing his jaw, eyes fixed on his lips.

“Yeah…?” he encouraged her, hands slowing descending to her hips. 

_“That we left our newborn babies with a perverted irresponsible magical cat,”_ she exclaimed, in a squeaky voice, hiding her face in her hands and breaking the mood so thoroughly that Soul briefly considered taking her back home.

Instead, he just crossed his arms, took a deep breath and prepared himself for the tempest that was Maka Albarn-Evans overthinking.

“Perverted and magical aside, she’s not an irresponsible cat. I mean… She is an irresponsible cat, but not about this. Hell, I’m not sure how we would have managed two kids without Blair’s help. She knows how to take care of them just fine. They will probably just sleep, wake up to eat and sleep again. Not that difficult.”

“I _know_ that, but… but…” Maka mumbled, face still down. 

“Don’t hold up, wife,” he said, very serious, even though ‘wife’ was the closer thing to a pet name he had for her. “Puke out.”

It was the only encouragement she needed.

_“We are_ terrible _parents…”_

“Nah, we ain’t.”

_“We have_ no idea _of what we are doing…”_

“True six months ago, not anymore.”

_“I never imagine we would have_ two _kids at the same time…”_

“Nothing to do about that.”

_“We totally screwed up their_ names…”

“You _are_ aware that you are best friends with these dudes whose names are _Black*Star and Death The Kid_ , right?”

_“I thought it was a nice family thing to uphold and now they will_ hate us _when they get older…”_

“I _like_ their names, and they will hate us anyway when they become teenagers.”

_“We don’t have enough_ space…”

“True. Let’s move out.”

_“Mama didn’t come to the wedding_ and _didn’t come to meet them yet…”_

“Your mom’s kind of an asshole, please don’t Maka-chop me.”

_“I don’t even_ remember _her that much anymore…”_

“Good, ‘cause as I said, she’s kind of an ass.” 

_“So I don’t even_ know _how to be a mother…”_

“Don’t be like her and it is already a good start.”

**“You are pushing your luck.”**

“Sorry.”

_“And I feel bad and guilt all the time because_ I can’t stand being at home anymore, _I want to work…”_

“…well that’s the real problem, isn’t it?”

_“But it makes me feel like I’m_ bad _mama…”_

“You are _not_ a bad mom just because you miss work, Maka. I would probably be feeling the same if I wasn’t working too.”

_“You are a Death Scythe,_ the last _Death Scythe, you don’t have the luxury to retire early, but I…”_

“You are _not_ retiring early when you love _work_ more than you love _me.”_

_“How can I simply go to work and leave the kids alone to be raised by who? Blair? Papa?_ A nanny?”

“…I’m still waiting for you to deny my last statement, you know…”

_“I want to work, but I also want to be able to be with my children!”_

“We will figure that out, I promise you. Let’s talk with Kid and see what can be done.”

_“Chrona is still in the moon…”_

_“What…_ What does _that_ have to do with anything?!”

_“And since the delivery my body is… I don’t… I have these horrible marks and you…”_

“Ooook that’s enough, stop, stop!” Soul interrupted, securing her hands in his bigger one, while the other hold her chin, making her stare directly into his eyes. “Now you are just mumbling nonsense. Give me more credit, would’ya? I know your self-steam is kinda low, no idea why, so hear me out, stupid wife.” – Maka sniffed while he secured her face between his warm hands, thumbs slowly caressing her cheeks. He brought her face closer, his eyes were burning and his voice was rough. “First of all, don’t care if you got scars or stretch marks or put a hundred pounds or got bald. I will still love you and want you, the same way I had for the last ten years, as long as your soul is still the same.”

She didn’t need him to explain the double meaning of those words.

“The form doesn’t matter…” she murmured, quoting him. Soul’s response was his characteristic grim, and hugged her. “I’m sorry for being stupid.”

“It’s ok, I knew you were like this when I married you.” She chuckled against his chest. “Second, for Chrona’s situation, you need to go back to work if you wanna find a way to help him. Which brings us back to the main problem here.” He gently pushed her away, enough so he could stare in her eyes. “You wanna to go back to work, so go back to work. That will not make you a bad mom, and we will figure out a way for the kids have at least one of us with them every possible time.” 

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, tilting her head. Soul understood and rested his front head against hers.

“I don’t want them to feel left behind, like I did.” She whispered her final confession.

“We can’t control how the kids feel, Maka. We can only try our best.”

She opened her eyes, her doubts slowing leaving her face while she stared at her awesome husband.

_“When_ did you get so good at this parenthood thing?”

“Well, _you_ had nine months of blistered-hormone-high-happiness. _I_ spent those same months freaking the fuck out of my mind about everything that could go wrong.”

Maka could just laugh. 

“Glad to know you have all the answers now.”

“Not even close. Are you cool now?”

“I think so. Thank you.” She gave him a gentle kiss. “Sooo… Where should we go next?”

“You steal my lines the same way you steal my clothes. Dinner?”

“Sounds good. What did Blair say? Go on a date, get drunk, and…”

“…christen Shibusen’s room where we met.” He completed, and they stared at the school in silence for a few seconds. “Yeaaahhh… been there, done that.”

“I’m not sure if that was not the day when we got pregnant, you know.”

“Now you are just being cheesy,” Soul joked, turning around and starting the engine again. Maka’s arms enlaced his waist one more time. “So, dinner, drinks, and then we can find some other place to christen.”

“The Hook Cemetery is a famous hook up point, did you know?”

“…I don’t know if I’m impressed with that pun or not.”

* * *

They got back home at three in the morning, a little tipsy (Soul) and kind of drunk (Maka), clothes dirt by suspicious mud, to find their cat sleeping between the two cribs. The kids were still peaceful asleep, had been feed and changed around ten o clock. They were now wearing matching cat onesies, complete with cat ears in the hoods, and it was the cutest thing ever.

Blair was approved as a babysitter, and they decided to take more nights out from that day on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blair is very important to me, ok?


	2. Spirit or All grandpapas go to Heaven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Spirit is no match for his grandchildren's cuteness, and more plot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally time to explain this fic's summary lol
> 
> Thanks so much [ohmytheon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmytheon/pseuds/ohmytheon) for helping me to understand how 2 years old behave.

Maka’s babies were almost two years old, and in his impartial opinion, the only thing preventing his grandbabies for being absolutely, completely, incandescently _more_ perfects, was their father’s useless genes.

In other words, Spirit wished that Maka could have the kids without her unnecessary husband.

Just herself, alone, from her own will.

Or the Holy Ghost.

Or midi-chlorians. That was a thing, right?

The point was, no sex. Spirit didn’t want to think about his precious Maka having sex with that stupid punk that had the nerve to call himself her husband.

“Papa, is there _any_ reason for you to be mumbling about midi-chlorians and sex in front of my kids?” Maka asked, in a low voice, hoping the twins wouldn’t listen. They were learning words faster than Soul and she had expected, and sometimes the couple would let something they shouldn’t slip – and one time would be enough for the kids to learn and repeat. “Because those are two words that I don’t want them to learn so soon.”

“ _Midi-chlorians_ is a word they shouldn’t learn, like, ever,” Soul mumbled, coming from the kitchen.

They had moved to a bigger place, closer to Shibusen, six months ago. Blair was still their roommate, but more and more an inconstant one. She had her job at Chupa Cabras’ and her own affairs to occupy her mind, after all. Even though Blair was always happy to help, Soul wasn’t sure if her notions of time were completely different from a human being’s.

“Stop poisoning my kids with Prequels’ garbage, old man.”

“They are not your kids, they are my Maka’s kids~~” Spirit half said, half sang, kneeling in the carpet in front of the children, who couldn’t ignore him more even if they tried. “And they are my precious, precious granbabieeeess~~”

Maka and Soul shared identical exasperated looks.

“It’s _your_ dad in denial there. Deal with it,” he said, before retreating to their room to finish changing – they had a formal dinner at Kid’s mansion with some diplomats from other countries. Unfortunately, Blair was nowhere to be found, which meant: finding another babysitter.

Surprisingly, it was Maka’s idea to ask for Spirit’s help. Her papa was constantly nagging her about spending more time with his grandbabies, and truth be told, aside for all the cheating-on-her-mother thing, she couldn’t deny that he was a caring and loving dad.

At this moment, however, Maka was regretting every decision she ever made.

“Papa, I would really appreciate it if you stopped saying they are not Soul’s kids. It’s all kinds of uncomfortable.”

Before Spirit could answer, Aika’s attention was immediately dragged by the unknown word. Her clever red eyes were fixed in her mother, while she tried to repeat, very serious.

“Un-omr-ta-ble.”

As happened every time one of her babies tried something new, Maka felt her heart warming and melting. Forgetting that she was already dressed, she had the total intention of just lying on the carpet with her babies in continuing to teach them new words.

Fortunately, or not, Spirit was faster: he grabbed his granddaughter and started to spin her around the room claiming she was clever just like his Maka, in one of his infamous Spirit’s attacks. Sound lifted his equally red eyes, attracted by the commotion, but then he concluded it was too much noise and went back to his drawings.

Her father was wrong, as always. Both of her kids had her facial features and her husband’s eyes; but her girl, who had Spirits’ red hair – for Soul’s eternal despair – clearly also had Soul’s temper. She was curious but too serious and grumpy for a kid that young; she slept better with music playing and rarely truly laughed. Sound, even with his white hair, was way more like Maka: he was gentle and calm, liked to hear stories and hated noises. What remained to be seen was if one of them were a demon weapon.

“Stop spinning Aika, Papa, you will make her sick.” Maka sighed.

“Stop spinning my kid, old man, you will make _me_ sick.” Soul complemented, returning to the living room. He was wearing his signature striped suit, red shirt and black tie, and Maka felt butterflies in her stomach as if she was a fifteen-year-old virgin, and not a twenty-five-year-old-married-with-two-kids woman.

“Aren’t you a handsome devil?” she mumbled, adjusting his tie that needed no adjustment. Soul’s devilish grin was wider than ever.

“You are not so bad yourself, Mrs. Evans,” he whispered in response, checking her in her long _black dress._

“Stop being disgusting, you will make _me_ sick,” Spirit half screamed, half cried, and his face was actually a delicate green color. Seeing his only daughter flirting with her husband was apparently too much for his heart – neverminded if he was holding the living proof of their nightly activities on his arms. “And take your hands of my baby daughter, you demon.”

Soul immediately pulled Maka closer, resting his face on her hair.

“Remind me again why your father-in-denial is here.”

“Because Blair is not, and we need a babysitter,” Maka whispered, gently pulling away from her husband’s arms, but holding one of his hands while she kneeled to give her youngest kid a kiss. “Goodnight, sweet. Mama and Papa will be gone for a while, so be good with Grandpa Spirit, okay?”

Sound didn’t pay much attention to his mother’s words or his father gentle pat on his hair, too entertained with his drawings. Aika, eager to leave her grandfathers’ grip, immediately threw herself into Soul’s arms, and her parents gave her their goodnights.

“Their dinner is already in the oven, Papa, and you have to put them to sleep at eight o clock,” Maka explained, carefully depositing her daughter on the carpet beside her brother. “No sugar, no television, no visitors – it makes them agitated. We will be back around midnight, tops.”

“Don’t worry, Maka, you can trust your Papa,” Spirit said, giving his thumb up. That common gesture only made Maka shiver, and Soul lifted one eyebrow.

“Somehow, I’m now worried.”

“Shut up, beast.”

* * *

Sound and Aika were clever kids. Perhaps too clever for kids that young. They knew what they wanted, they learned fast, and they were just adorable – honestly, it was not a fair fight to begin with.

Spirit never stood a chance.

In the first hour after their parents had left for dinner, Sound and Aika played on the carpet with their toys and crayons. They were calm, quiet kids and seemed to understand each other just exchanging looks and mumbling.

That actually surprised Spirit: Maka had been a relatively calm kid; her infamous tantrums only started after his divorce. However, even at her calmest, Maka was still curious, and as soon as she had learned how to speak, she couldn’t stop asking questions – she wanted her papa to explain _everything_ to her.

The twins could have her mother’s delicate features, but their father’s introspectiveness was already showing up.

Or maybe it was a twin thing.

He didn’t want to think about the other alternative. He didn’t want to think about them learning about only needing each other so soon.

He didn’t want to remember how many times his wife and he had left Maka behind, alone, with only her trustful books as a company.

Spirit was pulled out of those depressing thoughts by a gentle tug on his sleeve. Aika was standing in front of him, her tiny eyebrows contorted in a frown that was legit impressive for a kid that young.

“We a’ hungry,” she declared, surprising Spirit again. Maka had mentioned that Aika had recently acquired the habit of talking for both of them, but either way, it was unexpectedly cute hearing it. Sound was still absorbed in his drawings, yet he didn’t contradict his older sister.

“Don’t worry, Aika, grandpapa is going to warm your dinner!” he exclaimed, patting her hair and smiling brightly.

She didn’t seem impressed.

“Now,” was all she said in return, crossing her arms and pouting.

_Pouting._

“AIKA IS SO CUTE!” Spirit barked, grabbing her and spinning her around the living room once more. She screamed for him to let her go, struggling against his grip.

Sound finally looked up to stare at them. The noise was bothersome, he was hungry and he wished his mama or papa would be here – Grandpapa was weird.

“Granpapa!” he called, and Spirit instantly stopped spinning to stare at him, his eyes tearing up.

“Sound called me grandpapa!” he exclaimed, and keeled down to try to hold the other kid too.

Sound was quicker, though, running away to the kitchen. “I’m hungry!” he screamed from there.

Aika started to pull his hair angrily, and Spirit suddenly remembered that he was supposed to be feeding his grandkids.

_Focus, Spirit Albarn. You can’t fail Maka or she is never going to let you babysit your grandkids again._

Humming contently, he carried Aika to the kitchen and sat her down on a chair – Sound was already sitting on another. They seemed relatively calmer now that they were in the kitchen, and they mumbled some disconnected words to each other, while patiently allowing Spirit to put their bibs and prepare them to eat.

Spirit found the plates Maka had prepared in the oven: mashed potatoes, grilled chicken and vegetables. A perfectly balanced and nutritious dinner, as expected from his daughter. He put the plates on the microwave and turned around to try to talk to kids once more.

They answered him with moderate levels of enthusiasm, maybe confused about the excessive attention their grandpapa was given to them. When Sound commented that “Granpapa hair is Aika hair” he practically melted into a puddle, and only the annoying beep from the microwave prevented him from grabbing and spinning the kids once again.

He set the plates on the table, together with the tiny childish spoons Maka had shown him earlier. Spirit sat on the chair in front of the two kids, ready to help if they started to struggle with the food. However, stubborn like only his Maka’s kids could be, the twins were completely focused on their task of feeding themselves alone.

With clumsy movements that made half of the food fall back to the plate, Aika was the first to put the spoon with mashed potatoes in her mouth.

Only to spit it back to her plate with an angry cry.

“No, no…” she said, licking her own palm as if she was cleaning the taste of her mouth.

Spirit immediately leaned over her, asking her why she didn’t want to eat the food her mama had prepared with so much love.

The old weapon was wrong in two instances here:

First, Soul was the one who had prepared the children’s dinner.

Second, they _did_ want to eat it, they just _couldn’t_ because it was too hot – Spirit had overheated it.

Sound forcefully swallowed the hot food he had put on his mouth and asked for water. His grandfather immediately jumped to attend his request, while still asking the kids what was wrong with the food.

“Oh, come on, Aika, Sound, you want to eat mama’s food, right?” he asked, after filling their baby cups. “You told me you’re hungry, so you want to eat, right?”

“Wan-to-eat?” Aika repeated, frowning once more. Her brother was sipping his water, but his curious eyes were fixed on his grandfather too.

“Yes, what do you want to eat?” Spirit innocently asked, hoping he could prepare another dinner if the kids were refusing so much the one Maka had prepared.

‘What do you want to eat’ is a question that only has one possible answer, if we are considering two-years-old living in the desert, who also just happened to had burned their tongues with hot food:

“Ice-cream,” they said in unison, without even looking at each other.

Spirit’s smile faltered a little.

“Ice-cream?” he repeated, and he immediately regretted it. The way their precious red eyes lit up at him almost broke his heart. “Sound, Aika, mama don’t want you to eat sugar now, and you need a nutritious dinner…”

His reasoning only made the two kids more confused. Grandpapa had asked what they want, right? And their tongs were still burned.

“It hurt,” Aika tried to explain, and that only alarmed Spirit more.

“What is hurting, Aika? Is it your teeth? Are your teeth growing?” he grabbed his granddaughter’s face and tried to open her mouth, receiving a violent struggle in return.

“Nooooooo!” she screamed again  
.  
Spirit let her go, joining his hands in front of his face and started to list the pros and cons of the situation:

Maka’s children must be fed, but they are refusing to eat their dinner. Aika said they are feeling pain and they want ice-cream. There’s only one logical conclusion then: their teeth were growing and that was why they couldn’t eat regular food.

Now that he was thinking about it, when Maka got her wisdom teeth removed, she also couldn’t eat anything aside from ice-cream for days. Yes, that made sense. Maka had said that they shouldn’t eat sugar, but eating nothing was worst, right?

Too occupied mumbling nonsense to himself, Spirit didn’t notice Sound tentatively taking another spoon of his food and eating.

“It’s decided then!” Spirit exclaimed, taking the plates back. Sound complained, saying he was hungry, and that almost brought his grandfather to tears. “I know, Sound, but don’t worry, grandpapa is going to prepare the biggest, iciest, sweetest bow of ice-cream just for the two of you!”

Their faces – so similar to his Maka’s! – lit up once more and Spirit decided that he was doing a great job as a babysitter.

* * *

Meanwhile, at Kid’s mansion, Maka felt a shiver running down her spine.

“What’s wrong?” Soul asked, offering her a flute of champagne.

“I just felt a strange urge to Maka-chop my papa,” she signed, accepting the drink.

“He’s probably bothering them to death with his grandpapa love,” Soul shrugged, making Liz and Patty laugh. “He will get them tired soon enough, and he will have to put them to bed, so don’t worry.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Before Soul or the Thompsons could reassure her that the kids were being take care of, the ballroom doors opened with a boom, followed by a war cry that made all heads turn around:

“YOUR TRUE GOD IS HERE, PLEBS!”

Patty laughed, clapping her hands, while Maka and Liz exchanged annoyed glances. Soul only took a sip of his drink, an amused smile playing on the corner of his lips.

“I hope this is not a fund-raising kind of dinner, ‘cause I feel all your profit going to shit right now.”

“It isn’t,” Liz explained. “This is just for appearances, to let other countries know what Kid is up to these days.”

“What? Uncrooking all Death City’s lamp posts until they are perfectly symmetrical?”

“Among other things.”

“Yoo underlings, your God has arrived!” Black*Star announced, well humored. They could see that Tsubaki had been able to convince him to wear at least half of the formal attire Kid had requested: a striped shirt, pants, and suspenders. “Where’s Kid?”

“He is the host, after all, he can’t be with us all the time,” Maka explained, but her eyes were fixed on the tall weapon behind the noisy Meister. “You look amazing, Tsubaki!”

“Thank you, Maka, you look good too,” she absently righted the fabric of her yellow houmongi kimono. It had a camellia pattern, and her long hair was pinned up in an elegant bum. “My parents send it as a gift; I thought I wouldn’t have other opportunities to wear it.”

“They sent one for Angela too and now that brat refuses to take it off,” Black*Star grabbed the tray from a distracted waiter’s hands and started to eat canapés like popcorn. “Speaking of little devils, where’s yours?”

“At home with my father, and don’t call them that, Black*Star,” Maka retorted, frowning. Soul remembered how grumpy Aika was becoming, but decided that it would be in his best interest if he pretended to agree with his wife, and just drank more champagne.

“With your old man? Come on!” Black*Star complained, swallowing the last canape. “How come you let your father – that you hate, by the way – to play nanny for the kids, but don’t let me? _Me?_ The great-”

“First of all, I don’t hate my papa, Black*Star,” Maka interrupted. “And second, _do I need to remind you…”_

“Shit, Maka, it was years ago.”

_“…that when my kids were newborns…”_

“You are being dramatic. Soul, back me up here, man.”

**“Hell no.”**

_“…you kidnapped them from the infirmary…”_

“Kidnapped is a strong word.”

_“…and you raised them from the top of Shibusen as in ‘The Lion King’…”_

“Which was awesome, right, Soul?”

**“Hell. Fucking. No.” ******

_“…and you even painted terribly black stars on their foreheads.”_

“Hahaha yeah, I had forgotten about that part.”

“Black*Star, you lost any possible babysitter potential that day,” Maka finished with a definitive tone, that finally made the other Meister frown.

“Oi shortie, keep that up and I will think you don’t trust me with your kids,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t give me reasons to question your judgment,” Maka retorted, mimicking his posture.

Tsubaki and Soul had seen that scene enough times to know where that was going.

“We are here to help Kid to promote Shibusen, right?” Soul interfered, gently pulling Maka closer to him. “Not the best time for you idiots discuss over this again.”

“Who are you calling an idiot?” Maka hissed.

“OI, we are not done, Maka-”

“Black*Star, please,” Tsubaki asked, with her sweetest voice. They exchanged knowing looks, and the meister finally let out a tired signed.

“That’s so fucked up,” he said, before turning around and disappearing between the other guests, probably to wreak havoc somewhere else.

“You know, someday you will have to let that go,” Soul commented, giving his wife a side glance.

“Someday…” she mumbled against her flute.

“And how about you, Tsubaki?” Liz asked, in a not-at-all-subtle attempt to change the topic. “When are _you_ going to pop one out?”

“What?” The other weapon exclaimed, nervously gesturing her negation with her hands. “No, no… Me and Black*Star, we are not like… _that.”_

The silence that followed her statement spoke volumes.

“I’m buying you a pack of double-A batteries for your birthday,” Liz declared, making Patty laugh, Maka chuckle and Soul picture a lot of things he never wanted to.

“… _aaaand_ this is my cue to go find Black*Star,” he declared, turning around and letting the ladies bully Tsubaki to their heart's content.

It wasn’t difficult to find the ninja among the sea of black tied old pompous people – he only had to look around for an obnoxious blue hair. Black*Star was sitting folded leg on one of the tables, and he had acquired another tray of hot hors d’oeuvres. Soul didn’t need to be Tsubaki to know that his friend was utterly pissed.

He didn’t say a word; he only sat on a chair by his side and continued to sip his drink.

“You _do_ know I had everything under control, right?” Black*Star finally said, after finishing the tray of food.

“Yes,” Soul conceded, without looking at his best friend. “But I also remember you _falling to the fucking ground exactly from there,_ in the day we met Kid.”

“That was before I had become the most godlike version of myself,” the ninja retorted, but his voice was deprived of his usual arrogance.

Black*Star was serious, but so was Soul.

“I know you wouldn’t let anything bad happen, but you have to see Maka’s side too,” Soul said, chugging the rest of his champagne in a way it would make his mother freak out - which, honestly, was an entertaining thought. “She woke up from her midsection thinking she would hold her kids for the first time, but she couldn’t, because her ninja friend had hijacked them to do a fucking Rafiki impersonation…”

“And I admitted it was a dick move, ok?” Black*Star jumped from the table, and stood in front of Soul, forcing his friend to stared at him. “Tsubaki made me apologize and everything, so for how long is Maka going to be hung up on that?”

“Do you even _know_ Maka?” Soul asked in return. “When isn’t she hung up on something?”

“Fuck, you’re right,” Black*Star mumbled. He pulled a chair closer to Soul and produced a bottle of fine whiskey from his pants. A _legit_ fine whiskey that he was sure the waiters weren’t serving to anyone who wasn’t a fucking _president._

_“How…”_

“Ninja God, my dude.”

“Fair.”

Black*Star took a big sip, before offering him the whiskey. They stayed in silence after that, passing the bottle and occasionally acknowledging the important people Kid had gathered there for some mysterious Shinigami reason.

“Do you remember her?” Soul finally asked something that had been bothering for a while. “Maka’s mom. Do you remember how she was like?”

Black*Star let out a tired sigh that didn’t match his character at all.

“Maka’s mom, hein…” the ninja let the bottle rest on the table and crossed his arms, his face contorting with the effort to remember. “Man, just because I know Maka since she was born, doesn’t mean w’all were a happy family or any shit like that. Her mother wasn’t around _even when_ she was around.”

“Care to explain?”

“She was always working, she and the old man,” Black*Star scratched his chin, his eyes absently searching among the guests for someone who was probably Tsubaki. Or Kid. He hadn’t been obnoxious with Kid yet. “Maka was always at home reading, and I was obviously training to become the all mighty God I’m today. Nah, I wasn’t part of the disaster family.”

Soul remembered that moment in Shibusen’s stairway, so many months ago, when Maka confessed that she didn’t want their kids to feel left behind.

“I don’t get why Maka admires her so much,” he confessed. Soul had never met Maka’s mom… Crap, he didn’t even know Maka’s mom’s _name,_ and at this point, he was just too ashamed to ask.

“She taught her well.” Soul stared at the ninja in disbelieve, and Black*Star only shrugged. “You occidental kids… Man, Maka’s mom taught her how to be tough and work hard, she just didn’t stick around to pamper her. That’s the old man’s job.”

Maybe Soul didn’t understand how ninja clans raised their children, but he for fucking sure knew neglect when he saw it.

“That’s fucked up.”

“Maybe,” Black*Star conceded. “She is probably the reason why Maka is so hung- **HOLY SHIT.”**

“What?”

Black*Star stared at him, with the smug satisfaction of someone who had just discovered something that had been kept a secret for the longest time.

“Is this why she was so pissed? Is she trying to surpass her mother at _motherhood?”_

He was only realizing that _now?_

“Again, _do you know Maka?”_

Black*Star let out a boisterous laugh.

“Oh man, I get it now, why she’s so overprotective with your little brats.”

“And because you took them from the infirmary before they had even taken their fucking _vaccines shots,”_ Soul said dryly, and the smile disappeared from Black*Star’s face. 

“And you?” the ninja questioned, and Soul understood without him having to elaborate.

“I already punched you in the face for that,” the first and the _last_ punch he would ever be able to deliver to his godlike friend’s face. He would not lie; it had been utterly satisfactory, even though Black*Star let him do it. “We are cool.”

Black*Star grinned and they bumped fists.

“Your God appreciates that.”

“I know you do. But pull out another shit like that and _I will eviscerate you.”_

Black*Star let him have the last word, and Soul accepted that final apology.

* * *

Spirit was starting to think that he had made a mistake.

In his defense, Aika and Sound had seemed so utterly adorable devouring the big bowl of ice cream, and he had plenty of evidence on his phone to prove that to Maka.

He only hoped it would be enough to prevent his daughter from _murdering him._

 _Agitated_ didn’t even start to describe how the kids were now, after an immeasurable amount of sugar.

“Granpa, granpa, granpa!” Aika busted, insistently pulling his sleeve. She patted the piano board, giggling. “Play, play, play…!” 

“Aika, grandpapa can’t play…” he tried to explain, but his granddaughter didn’t seem to understand that.

“Papa play!”

“Yes, Aika, your papa can play, but grandpapa can’t…”

“I play!” Sound exclaimed, pulling his other sleeve. “Pick me, pick me, pick…”

“Sound, I don’t think you should mess with your papa’s piano…”

“We play!” Aika let go of his sleeve, and threw herself at the bench, trying to climb it.

Spirit could feel the cold sweat accumulating on his neck.

“Aika, Sound, please let go of your papa’s piano, ok?” Spirit implored, gently picking the two energized kids. They struggled against his embrace, but laughed when Spirit let them fall on the couch. “It’s past your bedtime already…”

“Noooooooo!” they complained in unison.

Well, there was no away they would just stay put right now.

“Ok, what do you want to do, then?” he asked tiredly, pushing his sweaty hair from his forehead.

Sound immediately grabbed the remote control.

“Elsa!” he giggled, while Aika tried to steal the control from his hand. “Elsa! Elsa!”

“Who’s Elsa, Sound?”

“Le’ i goo!” Aika sang.

 _That_ he recognized, unfortunately. Disney was destroying these kids’ childhood in more ways than one. 

“We are going to watch just a little, ok babies? I have to put you to sleep before your mama comes back…”

“Elsa!” they screamed once more, and Spirit let out a resigned sigh.

Maybe he was too old for babysitting.

* * *

“I think you drank a little too much of that whiskey,” Maka giggled, observing Soul stumbling out of the taxi.

“Or I didn’t drink enough,” he mumbled, taking off his jacket and carelessly throwing it over his shoulder. “I started to have war flashbacks at some point.”

“Because of your family’s parties?” she asked gently.

Soul didn’t answer, only embraced her by the waist and rested his face against her hair for a minute. Maybe he was a little bit drunk, but he was not kidding about the war flashbacks. Maka allowed him to rest his weight against her body, while she searched for the keys in her purse.

“I don’t like these black-tie-parties either,” Maka said. She raised her head to look at him in the eyes. “It’s just exhausting how much… _are you shitting on me?”_

“What?” Soul jumped back, startled. Her angry cursing sobered him a little, but Maka wasn’t staring at him anymore – her forest-green eyes were locked on their apartment window. He looked up, but the drapes were closed. She was using her Soul Perception then. “What is it, Maka?”

 _“Unbelievable,”_ was all she said, before rashly climbing the stairs.

Whatever she had seen on their apartment, Soul had the impression that he wouldn’t want to be on Spirit’s skin.

Maka abruptly opened the door, and they were welcomed by their very much awake kids.

“Mama!”

“Papa!”

It took him a minute to fully process the scene.

Their sleeper sofa was unfolded, and Spirit was snorting on it. Aika and Sound were sitting at each side of their grandfather, unmistakably pumped up, and their faces were smudged with something that looked suspiciously like ice-cream. On their TV, Olaf was melting and Elsa used her frozen witch powers to make his personal flurry.

Man, he knew he should have burned that DVD a long time ago.

“Papa!” Aika almost threw herself out of the couch, but Maka was quick to pick her up. “Piano! Play, play, play, play!”

“Mama, pick me!” Sound laughed, and step over Spirit’s chest to come closer to his parents. Soul held him before he could stumble out of the couch, and Spirit finally woke up.

“Oh, what is… _Maka?!”_ Spirit sat up, nervously scratching his hair. Soul could see life slowly draining from his terrified eyes. The older Weapon gave his daughter a tentative smile, but Soul didn’t need Soul Perception to know that she was furious.

 _“Papa.”_ Not even Elsa could make her voice sound as cold as Maka’s now. _“Why are they awake? Why there is ice-cream on their faces? Why. Are. You. Watching. Frozen.”_

“Hahaha, well, you see, Maka, about that…”

“Papa, plaaaayyy!” Aika asked once more, extending her arms in his direction.

“Not now, grumpy, dad’s tired,” he answered. He picked her too, holding his kids on each arm, and they immediately started to pull his tie. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned while your mama murders your grandpa.”

Aika made an adorable attempt to say ‘murder’, while Sound giggled something about his grandpa and ice-cream. Soul carried them to the bathroom, and then Maka’s dam finally broke.

_“Papa, what the hell happened?”_

“Well, Maka, they didn’t want to eat their dinner…”

_“And your brilliant solution was to give them an overdose of sugar?”_

“They said they were in pain!”

_“They were perfectly fine when we left…”_

Soul blocked the discussion going on the living room – his head was hurting too much for that. He sat the kids on the sink and wet a towel. 

“Did you get hurt, Aika?” he asked, while gently wiping the ice-cream from Sound’s face.

His daughter put out her tongue and pointed.

“So, you burned your tongue, hum?”

“Granpapa gave ice-cream!” Sound said, and Soul sighed.

Well, that explained everything.

“Mama angry?” Aika asked.

“No, not with you, baby,” Maka said, appearing by the door. She grabbed another towel and wormed her away in the bathroom to accelerate the process.

“And your father?”

“Gone.”

“Dead?”

“Not yet.”

It took them a while to calm their kids enough to put them to bed. After they were cleaned, Soul picked Aika and started to rock her, slowly walking around the house, humming their nursery rhyme until she was asleep. When he finally took her back to their room, Maka was closing the book she had been reading to Sound.

It was past 1 a.m. when they finally lay together in their bed.

“Are you better now?” Maka whispered, snuggling against his chest.

“I’m the one who should be asking that,” Soul snorted. His fingers started to slowly play notes on her back. “Are you still mad with your father?”

“I can’t believe he screwed up this bad,” she growled.

“Are you putting him on your blacklist of babysitters?”

“I kind of want to… but I won’t,” she mumbled. Her hand rested against his heart, and she observed his chest moving rhythmically. “He’s their grandfather, after all.”

“…and?” Soul pushed.

“…and I know I can be a little… _overbearing,_ with the whole babysitter thing.”

Soul chuckled against her hair, but decided against voicing his opinion on the subject.

 _Overbearing_ didn’t even start to describe the situation.

He threw the blanket over them and let out a content sigh.

“Tsubaki talked to you, ah?”

“About Black*Star? Yes…” she closed her eyes and allowed her body to relax against his.

“Is he out of the blacklist?” Soul whispered, already dozing off.

“Not yet,” she whispered back.

“Worth a try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You had one job, Spirit.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [Tumblr](https://blueteehood.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/blueteeh)


End file.
